


a million colours on your mind

by virescentily



Series: in a different universe [1]
Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Meet-Cute, Miscommunication, Pining, and a fucking hug, and eliott is an idiotic hoe, but we been knew, i'm back at my bullshit, includes social media, le gang is as dumb as ever, lucas is feeling the brunt of a prank gone wrong, lucas needs a break, robbe is the roommate of century, robbe's there to shower lucas with his wisdom, so is eliott
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:46:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23444947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/virescentily/pseuds/virescentily
Summary: before, lucas had friends who shared a total of one (1) braincell between the three of them, a roommate fond of spewing out random shit about things lucas needed not to bother with, and a cat determined to make lucas's life hell on earth. but he didn't have 'failed executioner of plans' on his resume. nor a teeny tiny, almost invisible, perfectly non-existentinklingfor the person's he's doomed to make up to up for said failed plan.or, le gang's dumbassery combines with lucas's lack of good fortune to provide a concoction which might lead lucas to his grave.
Relationships: Eliott Demaury/Lucas Lallemant, Sander Driesen/Robbe IJzermans
Series: in a different universe [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1688779
Comments: 18
Kudos: 56





	1. part i.

**Author's Note:**

> so idk if anyone remembers, but i talked about writing kind of a spin-off to _you're all i need_ in the latest chapter of the story. this covid-19 situation provided me with the opportunity and before i knew, i was over 10k words into the universe. this is half of what i've written. and i might fuck around and continue this if anyone wants.
> 
> title from a quote by maria cristina mena

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which horrible exes, failed executions and stubborn cats maybe, possibly, lead lucas to something interesting in his life.

* * *

the cashier at the counter fixes lucas with a strange look pulled at his eyes behind the thick frames guarding them. his eyebrows are raised up to his head, which supports a hairless scalp. his lips are tilted to the side, unimpressed in a way enough to make lucas uncomfortable. lucas knows the weird assortment on the shelf may look like he's going on an illegal adventure, but it's anything but. (he's just doing what his friends say 'is a freaking good idea'.)

lucas tries to pull the least creepy smile on his face, and judging by the looks pulling up at the cashier's, fails miserably. "if you could scan these items quickly, sir," says lucas, in a voice he uses to talk to his cat, "i'm in a bit of hurry."

the cashier grumbles unintelligibly, his bald head turning to lucas as he starts working at a snail's speed. lucas feels the shaking of his legs getting stronger with each minute that passes. there’s an uneasy feeling to his stomach, one he’d get before receiving the test score he knows he’s done poorly at. lucas restrains himself from tapping his fingers against the counter as the cashier works as if he’s diffusing a bomb or something. thankfully there's no line piling up behind him because it takes fifteen minutes just for the cashier to scan each of the eight items and tell lucas his total.

"thank you," lucas says, and with an assortment of stuff to confuse even _kevin_ from _home alone_ \- and after pushing on the door which clearly says _pull_ \- lucas makes it out of the store. it takes him another five minutes to walk to the bus stop where the idiots must be waiting for him, quite restlessly, ready to give him all the shit in the world.

"took you long enough," arthur says when lucas reaches the pole he’s leaning on. he takes the paper bag from lucas's hands, and just that action makes some of the weight resting on lucas’s shoulder to dissipate. _wow_ , lucas is not ready at all to take the risk.

arthur starts examining the stuff, and takes out a can of cat food. "we're using this too?" he uses his index finger to push his slipping glasses higher on the bridge of his nose as he examines the small can with an air of connoisseur lucas knows is clearly fake.

lucas snatches the can from his hands and stuffs it in the inside pocket of his jacket, zipping it up around his body as the dusk falls into the night. "that's for mjolnir," lucas says, to which arthur mutters something along the lines of 'you and that cat'. basile peers over arthur's shoulders into the paper bag, and yann comes up to stand behind lucas.

something in his stomach coils a little.

"you okay there, buddy? looks like you're going to faint." yann places a hand on his shoulder, standing so he could look down at him. there’s concern pulling in his eyes as his forehead wrinkles in thought. lucas feels like a baby chicken when yann places a hand on his forehead like a mother would when checking for temperature. arthur and basile both stare at him.

lucas gulps down the bile rising in his throat, the bitter taste in his mouth increasing as he speaks, "i don't know guys," lucas huffs, rubbing his hands to generate heat in the september evening. the sky’s darkening behind him, and as the light which slowly disintegrates, so does his courage. "don't you think it's a bit aggressive?"

"aggressive?!" basile scoffs, coming to stand in front of lucas. he’s dubbed himself as the leader of their plan, and lucas wasn’t complaining. "dude, that guy cheated on you! this seems pretty tame in comparison. it’s like, a rabbit in front of a lion."

“great analogy, bas,” arthur slaps basile on his arm in encouragement, the lights from the bus stop dances on the lens ofhis glasses as he places a hand on lucas’s shoulder in comfort. yann nods heartily to that, "basile's right. even though he usually never is!"

lucas feels the knots in his stomach beginning to loose. there’s an airy calm to him now, "you're only edging me on! shouldn't you be the good guys and, i don't know, stop me from doing this altogether?"

"oh lucas," arthur laughs, eyes closing and face lighting up, "you've corrupted us all. i'm so excited to see it all being played out."

lucas sighs, the stomach once queasy now filled with something akin to excitement. but there’s this thing too, where he has a need to feel bad when making others feel bad. yann seems to guess his inner turmoil, since his arm wraps around lucas's shoulder, "it's okay if you're not up to this. we'll go home and have a game night."

"yeah man, it's totally up to you! we'll do whatever you want." there's a slight sadness to basile's voice that lucas decidedly doesn't comment on. his breath comes out white in the black of the night when he heaves a sigh, a rush beginning to set in his stomach.

"no, i already wasted so much money on these things. i wouldn't want to let it go to waste."

basile and arthur's cheers are too loud, and when yann removes his arm from his shoulders to drag him into the night, lucas doesn't feel so bad anymore.

\---

lucas is hiding behind a bush. arthur and basile have made a home for themselves behind the car placed just a few feet ahead of him. the night’s covering them, but lucas still feels adrenaline denting his brain and resisting him from feeling anything but dread. he’s never done anything like this. never had anything like this been done to him. god, he’d be so mad and so scared if a couple of people showed up at night, ruining whatever feels closest to him.

lucas shakes his head, hands trembling and stomach uneasy. now’s not the time to feel sorry. "hey arthur, pass me that spray paint." his voice feels hushed even to his own ears. arthur rummages around the bag till his hands clasp around the can. the night's fallen long ago, so has the cold settling in his bones. arthur uses the flashlight from his phone to peer over the can, huffing out a breath as he reads over the inscription.

"wash able? lucas, couldn't you have bought waterproof paint?"

lucas takes the can from arthur, "just be thankful i even bought one. okay, so how do i do this?" he’s hidden behind the shiny metal of the car as it reflects the moonlight. lucas feels trepidation running through his system, mixed with the blood pumping in his ears, as his hand holding the can of spray paint trembles lightly. this object in front of him holds a great deal of importance in benjamin’s life. god, he’d be so fucked. the can seems to taunt him the more lucas stares at it. 

"just draw two open circles with dots somewhere near the end," basile, completing his part of the task, demonstrates with his hands. the image and the thought which it creates in lucas’s mind leaves an acrid taste in his mouth, and he almost drops the can. he takes deep breaths before turning towards the car once again, face probably paler than a banana.

yann comes up to him, fortunately, taking the can from him and handing him the remaining eggs, "here, lucas. you take these. basile will take care of the uh- _painting_."

basile happily jogs over to lucas. he wastes no time in taking the paint and shaking the can, and when a silver circle of paint is drawn over the car's door, lucas turns around. arthur comes jogging back at that moment when basile _whoops_ oexcitedly, lucas has hardly noticed when he'd gone.

"i've tied the rope around the fence. placed the eggs where they'll be sure to get him and- ohh basile you should be an artist!"

lucas doesn't turn to see the masterpiece basile sure would have created. he’s seen enough of cursed images now. yann gives him a thumbs up, and if you ask lucas, that's enough of a confirmation.

they move away from the car parked on the curb in front of the house which lucas had frequented a couple million times before. the sight now causes bile to rise up his throat, causes a tremble in his fingers, a blockage in his airways. lucas follows the other three guys behind the rampart of small shrubs (but not small enough, since they cover all of him). they're at a safe distance from the house, and when they're secluded enough, arthur whispers out.

"okay, yann, will you do the honours?"

and yann, bless his soul, strikes the car with an egg from lucas's hand with so much force that the entire neighbourhood awakes from the alarm the car starts blaring. arthur and basile jump from the sound, and yann only grasps lucas's arm, "we need to run. in one, two, th-"

lucas doesn't hear yann finishing his sentence. doesn't stop arthur and basile's receding steps. the door to the house in front of his vision opens, and even though he's too far to see who's at the door–or to be seen by someone at that door–lucas still feels the air leaving his lungs when the person trips over the rope tied to do so, and falls into the small inflated pool for kids filled with twenty or so broken eggs.

there are distinct shouts and some curses reaching lucas's ears, dread grips his chest in a deadlock. that hair- that voice....

arthur and basile are nowhere to be found when he turns back, yann's hands clasp around lucas's, and the taller boy starts running as fast as he can with a pretty much frozen lucas in tow. the two reach an alley, and yann stops in his tracks to catch his breath.

"what the fuck lucas! why did you freeze?"

but lucas- he doesn't know if he knows what the fuck just happened. and he can't think because - lucas takes a shuddering breath in, lungs lidded with lead, weighted to the ground.

"yann, that wasn't him."

the alley's a dark, secluded place. yann's pants of air seem to die down, "what?"

"that wasn't benjamin. the person who stepped out and - he wasn't him."

if there were any light, lucas can swear yann'd be looking at him like he's grown another head. he can distinctly make out the look in yann's eyes. it's of utter confusion, and honestly lucas feels the same.

"well, fuck."

well fuck indeed.

\---

the flat is silent, and lucas has never appreciated his roommate more. don't get him wrong, he and robee get along just fine; he's a cool guy whom lucas can consider a friend. but lucas values his privacy, and when he'd arrived home the previous night to find robbe gone for the day, lucas had been over the moon.

lucas drags his body lacking with a good sleep to the kichen. he finds mjolnir sleeping on the rug placed on the floor. like lucas with various things in his room, mjolnir has developed a special relation with said rug. he bends down just a bit, patting lightly over her forehead. she stirs but doesn’t wake up.

lucas puts the oven mittens on as he peers into the oven. placing the phone between his shoulder and neck he answers the boys waiting on him.

"why do you think that, lucas? it was pretty dark to make anything out. maybe you just had a misconception. plus, i'm pretty sure that was benji's car which basile blessed with his art."

lucas balances the phone, walking around mjolnir, hands holding the trays of cupcakes he's stress-baked. he's having a group call with the boys, discussing the events transpiring the previous night.

"yeah, lucas." yann's voice breaks through the speaker, "arthur's probably right."

"no guys, you don't understand." lucas takes the cupcake out from the tray and places them on the shelf to cool. "i'm telling you that person wasn't benjamin."

someone sighs on the other line, and lucas cannot distinguish the sigh, "and that's what we're asking. how do you know?" it's yann, and he seems fed up. lucas lets out a sigh of his own, shoulders taut with tension and eyes burning from the lack of sleep. he can’t explain how he knows that person last night wasn’t Benjamin. he just knows. and he has no way to tell the boys that. "i don't know. he just- that person was tall-"

"-everyone's tall for you lucas," basile sniggers loudly at his joke, and lucas hears yann and arthur snort too. 

"shut up, you guys! now, as i was saying, he was tall, and his hair were long too. benjamin had a buzz cut. last i saw of him was three weeks ago, no one grows hair that fast." lucas is met with silence, so he continues, "and when that person uh- screamed, it didn't sound like benjamin either."

basile mumbles something after that, to which all of them shouts 'shut up basile'. the conversation takes a turn to the right just that, with basile telling everyone that lucas should know how benji sounds like when he is screaming.

"so we have two situations now," arthur starts, voice followed with static, "either it was benjamin and he's fucked, or it wasn't benjamin and we're fucked."

lucas thinks, back resting against the kitchen shelf. if it wasn't so cold, lucas would have sunk to the floor in despair. it's a pretty good summary, what arthur said. only if lucas could stop feeling like shit.

"let's suppose that person wasn't benjamin," basile starts, "if he were one of his booty calls or something, then that's good, right?"

"no bas, it isn't. that person was innocent. what we did wasn't right." lucas nods along to yann, tracing the crack on the tile over the counter with his fingers. "that is what's bugging me. we probably ruined a poor guy's evening. but on the bright side, we now have four dozen cupcakes which i have no idea what to do with."

someone laughs on the other line. there's still a heaviness residing in lucas's chest. he remembers the time he'd felt like this: utter shit. it was probably a month ago, and Lucas has a little notion of the week following the disaster; what he remembers was living in despair and breathing despair and being a fucking despair. 

basile sighs loudly on the other line, "i have an art class in thirty minutes," lucas looks at the clock, it is barely eight, "we all are fucking zombies in the class. if you want, i can pick up the cupcakes, in like ten minutes. maybe they'll help us survive the day."

lucas lets out a light laugh, the sound causing mjolnir to jolt awake. she stretches, fixing lucas with a glare angrier enough to scare all the kids away. lucas pokes out a tongue at her. "alright bas. i'll keep the door open for you."

the guys all say goodbye, probably turning to catch up on the sleep lucas quite rudely interrupted. yann and arthur both don't have any class before twelve and lucas has to be in class at ten. 

basile comes over and picks up the container lucas has filled with the cupcakes. mjolnir paddles up to basile, growling at him with so much anger basile cowers away. lucas shakes his get. count on his cat to not get along with anyone, even his roommate. lucas puts some cat food for her, leaving her with it and making his way to the couch in the living room to wallow in self-pity and sadness. 

if things had gone according to plan, lucas thinks, he wouldn't be dealing with this shit now. but of course, the universe has a fucking vendetta against lucas lallemant, someone who jumps ten feet in air upon seeing a cockroach, and sleeps with a light on at night.

minutes stretch like a rubber band. mjolnir snuggles up to lucas, purring softly. he caresses her silver fur, remembering he hasn't taken her on a walk in years. "sorry, bub," lucas coos, voice laced with as much sweetness to get mjolnir to understand him, "i don't have evening classes, so i'll take you for a walk after i get home, okay?"

mjolnir fixes her dark eyes upon him, as if she's reminding him of the stuff he still has to take care of. lucas sighs diligently, hating how dumb and stupid the cat can make him feel with her intelligence.

"slow down with the judging, bub. i know i messed up," lucas sinks further into the worn out couch, the rough texture rubbing into his back. he has cursed this couch many times before, remembered when something like this used to be his bed, and then promised to be grateful for things more, only to repeat the cycle again. mjolnir purs as she makes her way to lucas's chest, stretching before falling asleep there. lucas sighs, running his fingers through her fur as the events of last night pass through his mind.

they hadn’t done much damaged, lucas thinks, the paint could easily be washed from the car. as for the egss, lucas knows it’d smell for a day or two before turning to normal again. the inflated pool wasn’t a problem, though, seeing as it was pretty much harmless.

still, they pretty much violated one law or another. it was only some time before the not-benji-person would go to report the incident. he’d have all the clues, and fuck, their fingerprints would be present to. if they pressed charges, lucas would be too broke to pay them. and fuck, even worse, what if they put lucas to jail for trespassing? he’s too young to be behind bars. and mjonir. she’d probably be fine since she’s smarter than ten of lucases combined. but lucas won’t be able to live without her.

lucas feels an ache bubbling up in some corner of his brain. he sighs, pressing his hands to his forehead. mjolnir’s deep breaths from above him cause a little anxiety to diisipate from inside him, stomach clenching and unclenching terribly.

at some point, he gets up, placing water and food for mjolnir for when she’d wake up. he gets ready for his philosophy lecture, and meets robbe in his class.

“you look like you’ve barely slept last night,” robbe says, smiling from ear to ear. lucas loves this kid so much, so he slaps him on the arm to deflect the perfect truth in his statement.

* * *

“what the fuck lucas!! we said we’re in this together,” mjolnir pulls on the leash as lucas stop to pick up the call from yann. lucas drags his feet behind her, feeling much like she’s taing him on a walk, not the other way around. lucas hisses at her to slow down and she replies by glaring at lucas through her narrowed eyes. okay then.

“i know yann, but i kinda feel like i dragged all three of you into my mess. i don’t know i just feel bad for it,” yann’s sigh is enough to knock lucas out with the disappointment it carries. it was noon, and he was free for the day. so lucas had ventured out with mjonir in front of him to revisit the disaster point, much to yann’s dismay. the suns out today, and even though it’s seeping into every cell of his body and warming him up, lucas feels cold from inside. mjolnir stops to stare at a bunch of kids playing football, and lucas catches a breath.

“you’re wrong! we _dragged_ you into that prank. you didn’t even want to,” lucas’s heart constricts at the thought of the boys blaming themselves for the mess which now glares at lucas, bright and open. “you didn’t force me to do anything, I went by choice,” lucas sighs, running a hand through his hair. somewhere behind him, a bird chirps happily. “i wouldn’t be feeling like this if I had been benjamin, you know. it’s the thought of ruining another, an innocent person’s night is what’s getting to me.”

yann sighs again, and lucas can imagine him pacing in his room. “but that still doesn’t mean that you can go on your own to that place! what if benji’s there and he puts two and two together? do you think you can face him on your own?”

lucas winces at those words. yann better knows that he can’t, “i know that benjamin isn’t there. my phone hasn’t received a notification from him in days.” lucas’s laugh comes out weak, and yann doesn’t say anything after that. thay had prepared their alibis for if benjamin connected the dots and made his way to them with the blame. it’d have been inevitable, benjamin finding out that lucas and the guys were responsible for the prank since his fresh breakup with lucas and the great hate the boys collectively had against him. and they hadn’t been afraid to be vocal about it in front of him

so while formulating the plan, the boys were ready for every situation that might arise. but since benjamin hadn’t called lucas to yell ( he’d do that – yell at him - for every inconvenience in his life) lucas kind of figured benji didn’t know. or he wasn’t there to know.

“okay, but please take care?” yann asks, and lucas promises with his empty bank account that he’d be ‘extra careful’. they bid good-bye and lucas calls mjonir attention, walking her on the path he’d been avoiding, well, until last night.

* * *

the little green shrub seems to glare at him as lucas stands on the footpath across it. the driveway is empty of any car which could have made lucas feel better if he’d see the distorted figure drawn on it. lucas’s legs keep shaking. mjolnir is pullin on her leash when lucas zones in.

“stop it,” he hisses at his quite bossy and stubborn cat. basile is right. she does share a lot of characteristics with him. mjolnir fixes him with a stare, and lucas melts under it. “i’m here to see the mistakes i made last night. aren’t you happy with that?” lucas knows mjolnir holds deep feelings for him, and would love him even more if she gets to see lucas fucking up in front of her. that’s their relationship. and he’s proven right when mjonir stops her fidgeting and calmly folds her legs underneath her body to sit and wait for lucas to do his work.

“thank you,” lucas sighs, and watches as she moves her ears, an adequate representation of ‘no need’. lucas shakes his head, holding the leash tightly in his hand. he can’t trust mjolnir to not fuck up for him. lucas turns his gaze to the house in front of him. he thinks about their primary suspect, eliott, according to basile when lucas had called him to ask about him. and if basile’s little report about eliott had fifty sentences, then forty-nine of the sentences were about how nice he really is. _truly the best person_ , basile had figured it was necessary to throw in. as if lucas didn't already know. it had lucas feeling more dread, and he had thanked basile for no reason.

so he stares at the scene in front of him. the garden looks okay. the fence looks okay. there is not-

something collides with his head, and in confusion and the pain shooting up his skull he lets go of the leash, watching as a bunch of fucking kids sidle up to him, wearing apologetic looks. _see_ , lucas turns to his cat who sure would be fucking happy to see lucas fucking up.

except, mjolnir is running away to the garden lucas was holding her from. and she looks quite happy about it.

fucking shit. lucas shouts a loud and hurried “it’s okay” to the kids who have now taken the fucking football which hit lucas’s head. he runs after mjolnir, but at the end of the day he’s just a human after all. by the time he reaches the fucking garden, mjolnir has walked over half of the marigolds planted just by the fence.

“mjolnir,” he shouts as quiet as he can. mjolnir doesn’t pay him an ear as she walks happily over the flowers she’s sworn not to let live, “get away from there, you little shit!” it’s as lucas bends over the little settlement of yellow and orange flowers to pick mjolnir up that the door behind him creaks open. lucas feels the blood rushing to is ears as he swallows whatever that is blocking his throat.

“you’ll be the death of me,” he mutters to mjolnir who looks quite contented, snuggling in lucas’s arms. he takes a deep breath, summoning up courage that he doesn’t have as he turns around, apology ready on his lips, “i’m so sorry,” he keeps his gaze on the ground, just where the person’s (benji’s, or not-benji’s) shoes come into his view.

he takes a couple more breaths before he looks up. there he stands, the not-benji-person, probably the one who stood in the same spot last night, if lucas isn’t reaching. his hair is pretty long, and pretty messy too. lucas remembers seeing a silhouette of them last night.

“she got away from me pretty fast, and i tried stopping her but she’s sworn to not let any marigolds survive,” lucas tries to keep his voice steady, tries not to grimace when he looks at the little bed now strewn with small, mutilated petals. he fails, and mjolnir purrs in his arm. nuisance, she is. just wait till they get h-

“it’s okay,” the not-benji-person says. his voice is light and airy. lucas turns his gaze towards him again. he’s tall. lucas remembers the same sentiment from last night again. “i’m not particularly fond of them much, either.” it’s then, as a slight chuckle breaks at the end of the guy’s sentence, that lucas looks into his eyes, feeling ease sweep into a smile. glad he doesn’t have to worry about paying for some useless flowers to be planted at his ex’s house.

lucas ducks his head, remembering the reason he issupposed to be here. if this person’s eliott, then lucas has a pretty great storm coming. mjolnir takes that moment to struggle in lucas’s arms to let her go to, probably, destroy more flowers.

“ _mjolnir, no_!” lucas mutters, but it’s not quiet enough, not powerful enough, for mjolnir looks up at him like a bratty child being told no for the things they’d want most. lucas matches the intensity of her stare, only to be broken by a curious voice.

“ _mjolnir_?” he asks, and lucas looks up at him, mjolnir herself fixing her attention to the person in front of her. the guy trains her attention to the small ball of fur in lucas’s hands, before looking up at lucas, a question in his eyes. _whoa_ , they’re so green.

“ah-yeah,” lucas stutters, “you know, like thor’s hammer?” the look pulling at the guy’s face is the confirmation lucas needs, “you don’t know who thor is.” it comes more of a statement than a question. but then again, basile did say he shared an art class with eliott (if they’re the same person) so he might spend his time cooped up on the couch watching those movies which go over lucas’s head, with their dialogues and stories being far too complex for lucas’s comprehension.

the guy shakes his head, but he looks up at lucas with fire beneath his eyes. he takes a step forward, and lucas’s brain sends an alarm about his short height in response.

“okay, so mjolnir,” he says, now staring at mjolnir with his shoulders bent a little to accommodate his height. mjolnir straightens her ears, eyes fixed on the guy. if the world were to go under an apocalypse at this moment, mjolnir wouldn’t even have batted an eye, “you’re a nice little lady, aren’t you? surely you wouldn’t have done that-“ he quickly looks up at lucas, and then, with lowered voice, “-we both know that he’s pinning the blame on you, right?”

“hey!” lucas shouts, watching as mjolnir gains somewhat of a light in her eyes. the guy’s laughing with his eyes turns into little crescents. lucas feels a smile crawl over his lips as he stares at the not-benji-person. “don’t undermine her. you don’t know what she’s capable of er-“ lucas stutters, looking up at the person.

“eliott, i’m eliott.” the guy smiles, and needless to say lucas’s heart drops into his stomach and out of his ass. there’s no going back now. that’s eliott. the nice guy eliott basile’s such a big fan of. the guy which was supposed to benjamin last night. he feels mjolnir’s jugding eyes on him, the thoughts that must be pulling up in her mind suddenly bright and glaring at lucas’s face. his brain goes into a lockdown.

he must have stuttered out his name too because eliott is smiling at him, stars in his eyes and dread in lucas’s stomach, “well lucas, since we’ve stabled mjolnir is innocent, how’d you make up for these flowers now?”

and lucas has so, so much to make up for. eliott is smiling at him, there’s the sun making a halo behind him. and lucas is so fucked his generations and generations after him would feel the effects of that.

so he gulps down his worries along with his cat’s murderous gaze, “i’ll make it up to you, i promise,” and it’s far beyond the destroyed flowers on the ground when eliott smiles and lucas almost blackouts.

but he makes it to his dorm, alive, with mjolnir clutched to his chest so tight she leaps away when lucas lets her go. yes. even lucas wouldn’t want to be with himself right now. but he has a new contact in his phone, one belonging to someone who’d potentially throw him to the police if he knew the truth.

he sighs, picking up his phone. the idiots would have a field day hearing about this.


	2. part ii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which annoying roommates/friends, unfinished assignments and insane braincells at parties create a path for lucas's self sabotage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi lovely people! thank you to everyone who commented on the last chapter for this fic's continuation. and here i present to you some more chaotic dumbassery. i hope you enjoy this chapter (and the harry potter reference sprinkled in there somewhere.)

it’s somewhat after noon. the light is entering from the open windows, colouring the room in yellow and warmth. lucas is lying with his front to the floor. there’s a buzzing around his ears from the vibrations coming from his phone as the group chat he has with the boys gets swarmed with messages. he’s been ignoring them since the better part of this morning, not taking any part in what they have to say after learning about his weird run-in yesterday. he’s already suffered - by listening to them - enough as it is.

lucas has been lying on the floor, face down, limbs stretched in a starfish position, like this, for hours. mjolnir is somewhere paddling around lucas with the rubber duck he got for her. lucas’s head is swarmed by so many thoughts it’s becoming difficult to keep track of them. the train in his head keep jumping from one path to another, getting ready for a train wreck, and mjolnir with her rounds around his body is only frustrating him more.

“slow down with whatever black magic you’ve got going on,” lucas grumbles with his face pressed to the floor. mjolnir going around his body in circles with a rubber duck clutched in her teeth is every bit satanic that he could think of. lucas doesn’t need to get up to see mjolnir’s devil eyes and the rubber duck held in her mouth as she glares at him. lucas would feel that stare from another universe, he’s sure. “you already hexed me yesterday. what else do you want now?” lucas isn’t mad at her for running away and doing what she did – what she does every fucking time: get lucas in trouble. it’s like the sole purpose of her life is to make lucas’s lfe miserable. but he can’t complain. he _won’t_ complain.

he raises his head and sure enough, mjolnir’s dark eyes are staring at him back with an intensity which makes the remaining bit of lucas’s heart fall to the floor. he raises his arm, motioning for her to crawl under it. she paddles to him softly, her little claws tapping against the floor as she comes up to lucas, first dropping her small toy and then curling her body underneath his arm. she purrs softly as lucas runs her finger through her fur a couple times before snuggling his face into her body, “don’t be mad at me, bub. i love you.” in fact, if mjolnir hadn’t ran away, lucas would have _himself_ walked over to the outrageous garden and destroyed the flowers himself. fuck benjamin and his pretentious plants.

mjolnir’s purrs fill lucas’s ears, it’s like she’s speaking back to him. lucas nods his head as she makes sounds which lucas pretends he understands, placing a kiss on her nose as she cuddles up to lucas.

“yes, baby, i know,” there’s a knock on the door before its being opened. lucas stops speaking and peers up at the person behind the creaking block of wood. robbe stands there, a blue sock in one foot and a pink sock in another in lucas’s field of vision. he looks down at the quaint scene formed by lucas and his cat, light in his eyes as he smiles at the both.

mjolnir takes one look at robbe, growls as she sits up, and with the air of an egotistical celebrity, walks out of the creak left by robbe standing in the door, her rubber duck tucked between her teeth. robbe shakes his head as he comes to sit on the bed behind lucas’s body sprawled on the floor. lucas just stares at mjolnir’s receding figure. she still hasn’t developed a liking to him besides living with him for a better half of a year. but his friends have been in his longer life than robbe, and she still comes to bite at them if they as much as look at her.

lucas groans a bit, dropping his face back onto the cold floor. he lets the coldness soothes the ache in his brain as robbe makes a home for himself on his bed.

“stop thinking so much, lucas. you’re gonna give yourself a stroke. or an illness from all that radiation your brain must be absorbing from the ground.” lucas scoffs when robbe starts flicking through the various books strewn on lucas’s bed. he was studying for an upcoming quiz, but the many crises in his life had caught him in the middle of it all. so he had migrated to the floor in hopes that the many thoughts in his head would diffuse through his head to the earth. since, you know, the earth’s always absorbing and radiating energy. it’s basic physics (or chemistry? what even is science?).

“who says i’m thinking anything?” lucas bites back, closing his eyes as the coldness seeps into his skin. “i’m just trying out a yoga pose.”

“really?” lucas hears robbe from above him. he almost tells him to fuck off, “oh, it’s the one where you lie down and let your self-pity eat you from inside, right? i think i’ve tried that one before.”

lucas bites his lips to stop various expletives for his roommate from slipping out. he turns on his back, hands crossed over his chest as he glares at robbe’s smiling face above him, “what do you want ijzemans?”

robbe shakes his head, “you’re reminding me so much of your cat right now. no wonder she’s so moody.”

and that’s a comparison lucas would love to receive any other time except for when he’s being compared to his grumpy as hell cat. lucas isn’t moody. hell, he believes he’s every bit of sunshine and gumdrops and all those things which make you go warm from inside out. quite annoyed at robbe’s smug expression, lucas sit up, face in a frown, “shut up. you’re only saying that because you’re kinda bitter you still haven’t got mjolnir to come around.”

robbe shakes his head and his hair moves with the force. lucas smiles, knowing that he got him. every day, robbe would come back from his lecture or a day out with friends with little treats for lucas’s cat. and her being the diva she is would growl and hiss at him whenever he’d get close to her to give her the treat, before sidling away with the things robbe would have brought. every day robbe would complain to lucas about mjolnir’s selfish tendencies, and lucas would try, but he’d still feel proud at her, and somewhat bad for robbe. on many occasions, robbe had asserted that lucas turns mjolnir against him by badmouthing him constantly. _‘you’d do that,’_ robbe had said quite petulantly, all sad and small while lucas was incredulous, _‘i have proo_ f.’

(and the proof had been a recording of mjolnir tearing up robbe’s photograph as lucas laughed behind her. basile had filmed it, and sent it to robbe. he still holds the video against lucas to this day.)

lucas looks at robbe as he plays with a piece of thread on the bed sheet. “but on a serious note, do you really need something?” lucas asks, watching as something in robbe’s shoulder tenses a little. while lucas had been completely unaware of robbe’s tactics before, he figures now robbe was probably distracting himself, “is everything alright?”

robbe sighs before looking at lucas, “my dad called,” he whispers, voice soft and low for lucas’s ears. “he says he wants to meet up.” robbe trains his eyes on a wall behind lucas, looking over his shoulders as he avoids his gaze. they had grown pretty close in a span of six months, considering how both of them come from broken families and shitty fathers who walked out on either of them. while lucas’s father has completely forgotten he existed (not that he minded, nope), robbe’s dad is trying to make a difference, to make up for the pain he caused robbe. and it leaves robbe somewhat in doubt.

“and?” lucas asks, keeping his voice low, “do you want to?”

robbe shakes his head, “i don’t know, i mean, he did bail the last time he called me,” robbe answers. lucas nods as if he understands, when in fact, everything flies above his head. not like he has a father who’s trying to be a better constant in his life, “but he did give you a genuine reason, no?”

robbe nods along to lucas. and lucas talks as if he knows every bit about everything in the universe, “and he also sent you that food from your favourite restaurant afterwards. that counts for something, right?” atleast he had remembered his son’s likes and dislikes. (lucas wasn’t envious about it, nope).

“i don’t know what to do, man!” robbe groans and lucas gets up from the floor. his butt was beginning to hurt pretty bad from sitting on the hard floor. he stretches a bit, plopping down across robbe, his feet on robbe’s back. “help me please, lucas!”

lucas scoffs, and it has robbe turning his neck towards him, “i don’t know why you’re asking me for help! i mean, it isn’t like me and my dad are a couple of best buds going on a fishing trip every other week.” robbe laughs out loud, his voice soft and bright. focusing on other people’s problems does give you an escape from your own, huh. lucas should do this more often. “but hey, do whatever you want. if he fucks up, i say burn down his whole house!” or vandalize his car and cause him to fall into an inflated pool filled with eggs, is the other half of the sentence which lucas quickly shuts back down into his voice box.

robbe smiles a bit, slapping lucas’s feet off of his back as he gets up. he does remind lucas a bit of himself. aside from the daddy issues, lucas would say robbe and him have got a lot in common. he’s like, a parallel version of lucas. well, if that parallel version was belgian instead of french, a huge physics nerd and read about useless fucking phenomena and somehow brought them up in every conversation he’d had, just for the kick of it.

robbe stands on his feet beside lucas’s bed as he stares down at him, smiling softly, “that’s a nice proposition, but i don’t think there’ll be any need. lunch?” lucas shakes his head, smiling from ear to ear as he scoffs. time to get their dynamic on track, “lunch, made by you? no, thanks. you’re probably planning on poisoning me.”

robbe ducks down his head as he smiles, “no, that’d be you. you and your cat. i wouldn’t put it past you to kill me like that, when i least expect it.”

lucas laughs, biting on his tongue as he rests his head against the headboard, “me and my cats are many things, cowards ain’t one of those. and you’d know when we’d be killing you. because it’d be with a pillow to your face as you sleep.”

“see, like i said, killing me in my sleep. just when i least expect it. cowards, the both of you,” robbe bites back, making his way out of lucas’s room. “i’m making some ham and emmental sandwiches. that good with you?”

robbe pauses in the doorway, looking over his shoulder at lucas. “parfait!” lucas shouts back, the pillow somwhow missing his mark which he hurls after robbe as he mutters, “cowards,” walking out as fast as he can, his far-away chuckles making a laugh bubble out of lucas’s mouth. just he wait. lucas would definitely bend mjolnir’s ears against him _for real_ this time.

* * *

it’s even late when robbe knocks on lucas’s door. he pokes his head inside a little, and ducks behind the door quickly when lucas throws a paper ball targeted for his head. there’s some curses directed at lucas which he chooses to ignore.

“you’re a maniac,” robbe screams from the other side, closing the door in front of his body so to make a shield between him and lucas. he grins when a bit of robbe’s face becomes visible from the gap. he interrupted lucas’s streaming of movies on a pirated site. it’s the least he deserves.

“i came to tell you that i’m going out,” robbe tells lucas from behind the door, “and also that your soul is going to expire from staying in on every weekend. you never have any fun. also, _who the hell stays in on saturday_?”

lucas narrows his eyes at robbe, “those words seem awfully familiar. now, robbe, don’t you think you’re copying someone?”

at this robbe fully enters inside lucas’s room. dressed in a grey tee with blue jeans cuffed up to his ankles. he’s wearing a silver hoop in his right ear. lucas knows what that is code for.

“it was the first thing you said to me,” robbe laughs, his eyes scrunching up, “and look at us doing a full one-eighty.” robbe leans his weight on the door, arms crossing across his chest. lucas looks on, unimpressed, clearly dying to talk to the dumbass standing in front of him. mjolnir stirs in her cot beside lucas’s bed. it’s like she can smell _stupid_ even in her sleep.

“i’m going to go, now,” robbe starts, fixing lucas with his look. lucas smiles, waving his hand back in acknowledgement, “okay, have fun.”

robbe looks at him suspiciously, eyes scrunched in fixation. “alriiight…”

it’s when he’s turning around, hand enclosed around the doorknob as he closes the door that lucas reaches into the drawer of his side table, taking out the foil packet he’s reserved for special purposes. it’s not like he needs it now, “wait robbe. you’re forgetting something!”

and it’s when robbe turns around, a “what?” forming on his lips that he gets hit square in the face - definitely prepped with those peely face-mask thingies - with the condom lucas hurls at him. a laugh break pasts lucas’s lips at the momentarily look of surprise which catches robbe’s features before it’s replaced by horror and absolute embarrassment as pink dents the cheeks which were previously glowing.

“lucas what the fuck!!” robbe whines, holding the packet between his thumb and index finger. his eyes are wide, and the blush keeps rising higher on his face, down his neck. _he’s likely to get more booty this way._

“go on,” lucas sniggers, as robbe’s eyes keep moving from the packet to lucas’s face, “a little gift from me. it looks like you might need it.”

lucas doesn’t say anything more, doesn’t ask further. robbe will tell him if he feels the need to. but he does look at lucas with lines etched on his forehead like he’s deeply troubled by lucas, the corner of his pulled down with the weight of the worries on his shoulder, “i hate you so much.”

and he turns around as lucas mutters a small, “love you, stay safe,” choosing to ignore how robbe slips the foil in the pocket of his jeans on his way out of lucas’s room.

lucas forgets the movie paused on the screen of his laptop. there’s something else in his mind now. he looks at mjolnir’s sleeping form, arthur’s voice starts ringing in some part of his brain _, “you’re like an old person’s soul trapped in a millenial’s body”._ robbe’s words play in the back of his head. his soul is on his way to its destined date of expiration. besides, you can’t blame him for it though. the only time he had fun _has_ come to bite him in his ass.

he stares at his phone, fingers twitching with the need to grab it. and because his soul is as lively and fresh like a bud newly sprouted from the ground, he opens up the contact glaring at him for the past twenty or so hours.

**_hey eliott_ **

**_~~cowabunga~~ _ **

**_~~hahah get it~~ _ **

**_it’s lucas. ~~the one from yesterday with the cat?~~_ **

lucas feels a cramping in his stomach before typing again.

**_let me know how i can make up for the flowers._ **

ten seconds pass which lucas _doesn’t_ count. and then, because he’s a coward _(fuck you, robbe)_ , lucas deletes these messages altogether.

whatever. let fate deal with the rest.

* * *

there’s a whirring from the fan above his head in lucas’s ears as he sits with a book on world politics open in front of him. the noise helps lucas to keep his mind (and eyes – they have a mind of their own) on the words forming incomprehensible sentences on the faded pages of the book he’s supposed to write a report on. so far, he’s only written one (1) sentence, and it’s just the title. (thanks to his well-aided brain after the horror it was subjected to last night.)

he scribbles more gibberish onto the page, some curses for robbe flowing more effortlessly out of his mouth. it’s surprising, honestly, how badly he wishes robbe had the worst hook-up in his life (but then his memory forces him to wish for robbe’s every hook-up after last night to be bad. and then his brain starts malfunctioning, the left side of his skull beginning to form an ache, so he lets out a groan, hitting his forehead onto the table cluttered with his mess.)

he’s particularly thankful now for the empty library. at least now lucas can wallow in despair in peace. “kill me, please.” he mutters into the wood, the space behind his eyebrow now pulsing with a dull pain. first the prank, then the flowers, and now robbe. his life is one inconvenience away from turning into a low budget soap opera.

“we can’t have that, no,” lucas straightens his back with a force that it sends his chair sliding against the floor with a squeak _. fuck fuck fuck_. bile starts to climb up lucas’s throat as the muscles of his stomach cramp. _fuck him. fuke this. fuck the universe_. “how will i go about the payback business, then?”

lucas swallows the taste building in his mouth, heart pounding heavily in his chest. when he’d ask fate to deal with that, he didn’t mean this. lucas cranes his neck, turning in his chair to get a better look at the person behind him. the pencil still clutched in his hand makes a small noise as lucas drops it to the table. he opens his mouth, ready to play it cool like, you know, a totally normal person with no criminal record. but all it takes is a damn look and one blinding smile for the wrong thing to come pouring out of his goddamned mouth, “are you stalking me or something?” (which is ironic, to say the least, coming from )lucas.

the ground beneath lucas’s feet escapes the roof over his head explodes as all of his senses are crushed to smithereens. eliott chuckles and lucas watches, eyes caught on the small bear drawn on eliott’s shirt near to his shoulders. he’s afraid to look any higher.

“that would be something, no?” eliott smiles, eyes made even brighter and greener than before by the yellow colour tainting the material of his shirt. lucas has never appreciated the colour more. he blinks; once, twice, and when the haze in front of his eyes clears, lucas forces the frozen tendons in his jaws to move into a semblance of a smile.

“no?” lucas keeps his voice low even though he’s sitting far away from the librarian who likes to mock him for no reason at all. (she’s got ears of a bat, and would hear him even if he whispers from mount everest.) “what brings you here then?”

it’s then that eliott steps away from the bookshelf he was leaning on, hands holding a book with brown and tattered skin. lucas follows his steps as he slides in the chair next to him, all smiles and scrunched eyes as his gaze steadies on the mess of books in front of lucas. the uneasiness from some time before now totally familiar to lucas returns with a bit of tingling inside the space under his sternum. lucas is distinctly aware of the drumming in his heart.

“just needed a quiet place to get this assignment done,” the fresh scent of spearmint follows eliott’s smile as his gaze steadies on lucas, hair a mess at the top of his head. “figured the library would help.”

and lucas – well, his brain chooses that moment to do an archive search for eliott’s face – this thing which keeps bugging lucas. he can’t remember, for the life of him, if he’s seen eliott around campus before. and basile said eliott is in his class. surely lucas isn’t as out of his head as he is to miss eliott in the passing, no?

a hand on his arm pulls lucas out of is daydreams. he comes back to earth with a start, feeling the heat of eliott’s palm from the material of his shirt. heat rises up his neck from the point of contact as he desperately tried to ward off the effects. _you fucked up his night, remember lu?_

eliott’s hand falls back to his side as lucas looks up at him, a question on his face. “i was asking about your earlier moment. is everything okay?”

and he might be the nicest person there ever could be. lucas bites down on his lips, guilt forming up an unknown brew inside him which licks him up. “yeah i – i’m okay,” lucas sighs, resisting the temptation inside him to hit his head again on the table, hands closing into small fists on the wood, “i was, like you said, just having a moment.”

eliott laughs, and it’s a sound which makes lucas smile tersely. he would not be laughing at him – _with him_ if he knew what lucas did. but eliott turns to lucas, green reflecting from the brown of the bookshelves behind them; the red of eliott’s tattered book cover; the white of lucas’s page. “yeah, i know that. but i’m sure it’s not enough to match the moment i had the other day.”

_oh god_. oh fuck no. lucas’s stomach clenches. _fuck_. they’re having the conversation. they’re having _that_ conversation. fuck. they can’t have this conversation here, now, with lucas running on four espresso shots and two hours of sleep. the words disappear, drums sound in his ears as lucas swallows heavily. “oh?” what the fuck lucas? why did he say fucking ‘oh’ like a fucking mentally retarded person????

eliott only shrugs, unaware of the hell brewing inside lucas. “yeah. let’s just say the universe was mad at me and decided that i needed a lesson. so she pulled a prank.” his eyes stray from lucas as he tucks his chin down. there’s an arm of space between them, but if lucas leans a millimeter in and sniffs, he’s sure he’ll smell that spearmint again. “it was a rough night.”

the muscles inside lucas tense uncomfortably, the back of his neck starting to burn. he knows eliott hasn’t used clear words, but all doubt in him has strangely disappeared. lucas forces his eyes to stay on his hands, “were you attacked with toilet paper or something?”

lucas doesn’t miss the way eliott’s nose moves. he looks up, scrunching his nose in the most adorable way. lucas _isn’t_ affected by that, of course. “no,” he huffs, leaning back on the chair as it creaks, “it were eggs, though. lots of them. and in a pool, mind you.” eliott smiles, and lucas doesn’t feel it in him to catch eliott’s eyes. “also, a pretty detailed and horrifying painting of what i’m guessing is boobs drawn on my cousin’s car.”

cousin. _holy fucking cousin_. eliott is benjamin’s fucking cousin. lucas isn’t relieved at all by that piece of information. it doesn’t have anything to do with the way his heart relaxes in his rib cage and stomach un-clenches. “that’s….. _terrible_. he must have been mad.”

“nah, i didn’t tell him. the paint came off so,” eliott shrugs, like it’s a terribly normal thing for your car to get vandalized. lucas keeps his face neutral as eliott looks at him, “besides, he’s a dick so he totally deserved that.”

lucas almost chokes on his spit. with wide eyes he gapes at eliott, who’s now smiling cheekily. “i’m pretty sure the prank was for him but somehow i got in the way. but that’s past us now,” eliott concludes, long fingers adorned with a silver ring moving against the spine of the book, opening it to page three-hundred and ninety-four. (lucas is avoiding eliott’s eyes, okay. it’s how he knows it. the page number, he means.) he tries (and fails) to keep the relieved feeling from escaping his stomach. eliott knows. he knows the prank wasn’t to fuck up his night. there’s now a small, slight, now point two percent visible chance of him not getting mad at lucas when – or if – he finds out.

so lucas smiles, heart pretty light. he opens his mouth for something – something to get him talking to eliott – but his phone beeps at the very last minute, interrupting (and deflating) the courage he was previously filled with. eliott moves on to scribble something on a piece of paper, the phone weighs heavily in lucas’s hand as he unlocks it.

robbe’s words make a smile break out on his face. _get back soon you cruel vicious human person. i’m hungover and your cat is wreaking havoc._ lucas shakes his head, typing out a reply. **_good. it’s what you deserve_**. and then he turns his phone off, feeling eliott’s stare on him from the corner of his eyes. lucas turns to him, grabbing his book (and the still unfinished report) from the table. he puts them in his back as eliott smiles at him. “is everything alright?”

lucas nods, “yeah. it’s mjolnir-“ lucas doesn’t keen at the way eliott’s whole face lights up as soon as he mentions that name. he tries not to smile too much as he continues zipping his bag, “ - she doesn’t get along with my roommate. in fact, she doesn’t get along with _anyone._ so my roomate’s having a bit of trouble with her.”

lucas gets up slowly from the chair, slinging the bag over his shoulder. now that he has a couple feet of height over eliott he doesn’t feel so small and scrutinized under his gaze anymore. instead, he feels warm, all over; acutely aware of the seconds that tick by with eliott’s unmoving stare on him. finally, when lucas starts to feel the awkwardness seeping into his bones, eliott’s eyes begin to form a smile, skin tucking into crevasses formed under his eyes, “you’ll say hi to her from me?”

lucas smiles, feeling the action down to his stomach as it wakes in a frenzy, “of course.” and lucas nods his head in a semblance of a good-bye, turning on his toes, heart conjuring up a storm as he begins to walk away.

“and lucas?” he stops, turning his neck quickly to the side to peer at eliott, a pen in his hands and sunshine in his smile as he beams up at him, “please don’t delete the messages next time before i’ve got a chance to reply, okay?”

lucas doesn’t turn around to _see_ eliott’s blinding laugh as he quickly nods his head, stuttering out a weak “alright, bye,” before he’s scurrying away, heat burning him up to his ears, down to his stomach. _next time._ there’ll be a next time.

* * *

robbe throws a dirty sock at him when lucas gets home, head still somewhere in the clouds because he picks the sock up. with his bare hands, and puts in on the table next to robbe’s feet. and robbe finds this extremely unsettling.

“are you sure you’re the same lucas?” he croaks out. lucas notices his pale skin and bloodshot eyes. he still looks drunk. “you wouldn’t even touch my clean socks. what’s up with making direct, skin to skin contact with one i’ve worn for four days straight?”

and that ……that’s truly disgusting. but lucas’s above taking the sock and choking robbe to death with it. he’s a better person. “i just feel good today,” lucas smiles at robbe’s suspicious expression. he bunches up the blankets covering his body up to his face, tucking them under his chin. lucas throws the bag with croissants at robbe’s body which hits him on the head.

“fuck, lucas,” robbe groans, holding his head in his hands. the bag wasn’t heavy at all. lucas rolls his eyes, watching as robbe picks up the bag and peers inside, face lighting up at the sight. lucas shakes his head, laughing when robbe forgets his heavily injured head with all of his attention now turned to the croissants. “did you see benjamin behind bars or something today?” robbe asks and lucas freezes. he knows the bare minimum about lucas and benjamin, but knows nothing about the failed prank and eliott. lucas figures he’ll keep it that way.

“something like that,” lucas shrugs, watching as robbe stares at him. he shakes his head, smling when mjolnir’s small feet paddle up to him with her ears tilted back. she had fun annoying robbe today. lucas picks mjolnir up from the ground, pressing kisses into her fur as she snuggles her face in his neck. robbe pauses his eating to side-eye lucas and mjolnir. lucas smiles at him, “and did you put the condom to good use last night?”

lucas ducks in time as robbe hurls the sock at his head, kindly telling lucas to ‘go fuck himself,’ with blushing cheeks. lucas meets mjolnir’s proud eyes as robbe fires various expletives in the air.

* * *

“lucas, come on!”

“no.”

“lucas please.”

“guys i have a nine am lecture tomorrow,” lucas sighs into the dark, removing his glasses as he rubs his eyes. arthur scoffs on the other line. “if you don’t come, i’ll physically barge down to robbe’s room and let him deal with you.”

lucas sits up with a jolt, banging the lid of his laptop shut. mjolnir glances at him and lucas smiles in reassurance. “you won’t barge anywhere,” lucas hushes out, glancing at the clock on his mobile. it’s eight; lucas might be able to make it back by ten and sleep peacefully afterwards. “i’ll come.”

basile cheers as yann chides at him for disrupting his sleep. lucas shakes his head as arthur lets out a low tut, “too late. i already texted him. so we’ll let you deal with him, okay? bye!”

the line drops and lucas leaps up to his feet at the same time when there’s a rapping on his door. “lucas i hope you’re getting ready,” robbe shouts from behind the wood, voice somewhat muffled. lucas lets out a groan, “you went out yesterday and were still hungover a few minutes ago. surely you need a moment to rest, no?”

robbe laughs, “arthur promised to buy me food for the whole week. i’d be an idiot to say no to that.”

lucas grunts as robbe walks away, shouting behind him for robbe to be ready in ten minutes. lucas loves him, truly. but he loves his life more, so he quietly walks over to the dresser, takes out a clean shirt and jeans to wear. and is out with robbe after pressing a kiss to mjolnir’s forehead.

* * *

lucas isn’t someone who’s made to regret his decisions. surely he’s been wronged a few times before, a couple much recently than the others vis a vis his relationship with benjamin and the chaos which followed afterwards. but here, right now, as the single braincell shared by the three idiots much closer to his heart and one courtesy of robbe nears expiration, lucas’s whole decision making process flashes in front of his eyes. no fear of what tiny and small robbe is capabe of should deter him from now on from deciding what is better for their collective good.

but that can’t happen now. because basile has just taken arthur by his tie to the dance floor and robbe has his arms around yann’s neck, his face nuzzled in yann’s shoulder as the two boys slow dance to an upbeat tame impala song. lucas surreptitiously takes out his phone and does a quick recording. for future blackmailing purposes.

“lucas leave the fucking phone,” basile’s suddenly by his side, a pretty loopy arthur in tow. he’s holding a pretty big cup which he thrusts in lucas’s chest. “here, take this. it’s three parts vodka and nine parts beer. i got this specifically for you.” basile slurs as arthur hangs onto his arm, his glasses lopsided on his nose. lucas grimaces as he takes the cup, watching basile’s encouraging expression. maybe it won’t be so bad. maybe the disgustingness will cancel out the intoxication.

lucas takes a sip, holding the liquid in his mouth as it burns more from the vile taste than anything else. basile cheers on as he empties the cup, the music dulling behind him into a faint murmur. that can’t be good.

basile’s course mate had thrown this party which he had felt the need to drag everyone to. lucas had made the terrible decision to tag alone, but he didn’t feel the need to care as robbe was going apeshit crazy in the middle of the crowd he was standing in. yann was going around him in circles; both ditching their slow dance from earlier for much bold and eccentric moves now, screaming at the top of their lungs to the song. basile and arthur were off to one side; kind of satisfied now that their attempt to get lucas drunk was in its motion. and lucas, he’s feeling lightheaded and happy, much better than he was feeling before.

maybe it was a good idea after all. the thought has him laughing as he makes his way to a much quieter kitchen. he had thought the same thing at his first date with benjamin. and at the time he’d planned to surprise him. and at the time he’d found him with a guy worthy of being on the covers of sport tabloids and tv commercials. and at the time he’s blocked him from all spheres of his life, only to get thrown in the loop again.

and it makes him sad. things concerning him have a tendency to turn around much faster than he has the chance to grip them with his fingers. it makes him want to break something. and it makes him want to find eliott somewhere and tell him everything he has done.

but he doesn’t have to wish for long, it seems. the universe might be looking up at him though. for eliott pretty person walks into the kitchen at that moment. his face transforms into a big smile as he spots lucas; his hair in its usual mess and wearing a grey jacket and a white shirt underneath it. he’ll look good even if he came in a potato sack. that thought makes him laugh.

“what’s got you this happy?” he’s leaning against a table as eliott stands beside him. lucas smells spearmint now mixed with a faint scent of cigarette smoke. he shakes his head, smiling up at eliott with his teeth. he feels eliott leaning closer, a hand burning his skin as it’s place on his shoulder. “ah, so you’re drunk.”

“i’m not,” lucas bites back, hiccupping at the end. eliott giggles at the action. it’s such a pretty sound.

“you are,” eliott breathes as his hand slides down lucas’s arms, leaving a trail of tingles in its wake. it stops at lucas’s wrists, a thumb and his fingers enclosing the small area. lucas is aware of his heart thumping in his chest. “yep, you have a fast heartbeat.”

lucas doesn’t have the heart to tell him it’s got nothing to do with the alcohol in his system as he stares at eliott’s darkening eyes with the light. “hey eliott?” he finds himself whispering anyways, wrapping his other hand around eliott’s which is still wrapped around his wrist. “i need to tell you something.” he gives it a small tug, and eliott looks at him with concern pulling behind his eyes, “what is it?”

lucas takes a deep breath, feeling the heat on his face getting stronger, heart beating faster in his chest. lucas take a final look at eliott’s lovely face. he might not look at him the same way again. and that’s totaaly fine. lucas deserves that. he takes a shuddering breath in, thinking, here goes nothing. “that prank you told me about earlier?” eliott nods, face so so close to lucas, eyes wide, “i know who did that.”

lucas is aware of eliott’s touch on his wrist. it’s so different from benjamin’s touch. it’s soft and warm. it’s weird how they share the same blood. there’s now confusion pulling on eliott’s face, “okay?”

lucas gulps, holding onto eliott’s hand with everything he can. he’s so tensed he might cry if he thinks about this. “it- we did it. me and my friends. but we didn’t mean for any harm to you eliott!i swear we didn’t want any of it to happen to you!” lucas rushes out in a single breath, voice weak and so close to tears, eliott’s face is blank, hand limp in lucas’s hold before he drops it to his side.

“so, the other day when you- did you come because of that?” eliott’s voice doesn’t hold any sort of emotion. and lucas decides it’s a bad thing. he’d rather eliott be angry at him than- than whatever _this_ is.

“ye- it was partly because of that. i knew we had the wrong person and then basile mentioned you and it all clicked. i came because – because i wanted to see and-“ lucas stops, suddenly feeling out of breath. eliott avoids his gaze as he desperately tries to catch his eyes, hands bunched in fists on his sides. he’s mad. he’s mad at lucas.

“oh,” it’s a small word, but it punctures through lucas’s heart like a spear. eliott takes a step back, eyes casted to the floor before moving quickly to lucas’s face. eliott smiles tersely, and it fails to reach his eyes. “i- i think i – i need to go.”

he doesn’t wait before he’s turning on his feet, lucas’s body is frozen in its place as eliott walks out of the kitchen; a faint trail of spearmint left in its wake. lucas gulps down his embarrassment and wipes his clammy hands onto his shirt, feeling much of an idiot than anything else.

he’s just lost a potential friendship with eliott. he has fucked up. he _is_ fucked up. and an idiot. _definitely a fucked-up, old soul-ed idiot._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kudos and comments are always appreciated! stay safe and don't forget to wash your hands. come say hi to me [@raconxteur](https://raconxteur.tumblr.com)


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